I was doing the last of the ironing in the kitchen yesterday when I heard the Hub talking to someone in a gentle voice:
Now what are you doing back here? Haven’t I put you out three times? I know it’s cold and wet but you can’t stay here…
There was a pause. He was obviously thinking.
He came into the kitchen, hands cupped. I thought it was in supplication until I saw the huge spider dancing over them.
The Hub turned pleading eyes to me:
Please can he stay? I’ve put him out three times but he keeps coming back in. You can’t blame him: it’s miserable out there. Can’t we find a dark spot where he won’t bother you?
Call it the season – not just about getting the ironing up to date, but also about peace on earth and goodwill to all men, women and arachnids – but I caved:
Fine. Put him behind the trunks at the end of the hall.
The thing I feared has come upon me: the Hub has made me a spider-lover.
I have the funniest readers in the blogosphere (not necessarily ha ha…)